The Summoner

After the display at the crossroads, it would be futile to protest, Tris thought. "Mage student might be more accurate," he said uncomfortably. He stopped and rose in his stirrups to take his bearings.

"Right now, I'd like to know whether this road meets up again with the road on the other side of the village," he said. There was a waxing moon, which saved the need for a torch, but the rolling hills made it difficult to gauge the lay of the land. "I have no desire to ride back through the village."

"I have a map," Kiara offered. She dug the map from her pack, grimacing with the movement. Tris guessed that the wound was deeper than she let on.

When Kiara unfolded the map, Tris called a small ball of cold handfire. That Kiara did not seem afraid of his power impressed him. That she was able to hold her own against one of the beasts, however briefly, intrigued him more. He chanced another glance at her. From the way she sat her horse and held herself—as well as the stoic way she bore her wound—he guessed that she was military-trained. Her brown eyes were intelligent, and her ma

"Look," Kiara said, pointing at a spot on the map. "If that's where we are, then the roads should meet not far from here."

Tris nodded. "Let's go. The sooner we find my friends, the safer we'll be."

Kiara lapsed into silence as they rode. She felt Greyfoot's absence keenly, but lacked the words or the will to share the loss with her riding companion, who might think her mad for mourning a fox. She glanced at him as they rode. Shoulder-length, white-blond hair was caught back in a queue. His ma

Jae shifted in his sling. She stroked his scales, and the unexpected kindness Tris showed made her look at him again. Though close to her own age, she guessed, he looked weary, as if he had been on the road for quite some time. His cloak was of common cloth, and his breeches of homespun fabric. But his blue eyes had a haunted look to them, and she wondered from what, besides the beasts, he might be ru

She had not traveled long before she learned that out here, everyone was ru

They rode barely half a candlemark before a man dressed in riding leathers stepped out from the bushes. Kiara's hand fell to her sword, but Tris reined in his mount.

"You waited for me?" Tris called in recognition. The swordsman, a lean, fit man with dark brown hair and a hunter's tan, nodded.

"Took you long enough. I was just about to ride back to find you," the man replied, in a tone both relieved and a

"I ran into another one of those friendly little beasts," Tris replied sarcastically. "And drove him off before he could eat a fellow traveler," he added, indicating Kiara.

Just then, Jae popped his head out of the makeshift sling and flicked his tongue. The swordsman's expression moved from a

The swordsman held his ground for a moment, then shook his head and turned aside. "Hey, it's your party," he said, turning his back and starting up the road. "The more the merrier."

The obvious play of wills between the two men left Kiara wondering even more about her new companion. The swordsman was clearly used to being in charge, and seemed to consider himself master of the excursion. But there was an air of command to Tris that won out over the headstrong swordsman. They had not gone far before the swordsman signaled them to dismount, and Kiara slid down from Wraith as best she could without squashing the gyregon, who protested ill-humouredly. Tris took the reins from her and led Wraith over to a small stand of trees, where he tethered the horse with the other mounts. That Tris did not insult her by trying to help her down from her horse made yet another positive impression.

"Careful how you split up that food. There's another mouth to feed," the swordsman called as they approached the camp.

"Glad to see you back in one piece," called a tall, black-haired man who rose from near the fire. He was strikingly handsome, with blue-black hair framing his face. When he moved, it was with a dancer's grace more than the stride of a fighter.

"So am I," Tris replied as he tethered his horse. Beyond them, a thin, brunette woman hunched next to a fire, and a young girl assiduously cut a loaf of bread with a knife.

"She's been hurt," Tris said as they drew closer. "I told her we had a healer with us."

At that, the woman looked up and froze as her eyes met Kiara's. Kiara felt breath leave her as if she'd been poleaxed, as she met those eyes in startled recognition.

She wasn't even sure she had choked out Carina's name before the dark-haired healer was in her arms, both of them talking and crying at once.

"Did you get this kind of greeting too?" the swordsman asked dryly as the others looked on in amazement.

Kiara dragged her sleeve across her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, finding her voice. "It's just, oh Goddess! We're cousins, and Carina's been on the road for so long—"

The black-haired man stepped toward them. "Then you must be Kiara Sharsequm."

"How—"

"It's all right, Kiara," Carina said, collecting herself with a deep breath and wiping the tears from her eyes. "They're friends. Come on. I'll take a look at that shoulder and at Jae. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Carina introduced Carroway, Vahanian and Berry, then went to retrieve her healer's bag from the satchels on her horse while Berry pressed a hunk of bread and chunks of meat and cheese into Kiara's hands. Jae's head thrust out of the sling, surprising the girl, who laughed and then reached for the gyregon. Kiara expected a hiss of a

When the healer finished with her shoulder, Kiara found that it no longer throbbed. Jae hissed in recognition as Carina took him gently from Berry, and let the little gyregon flick his tongue along her hand in acknowledgment. After a short while, the cut along Jae's belly looked nearly healed. Between healings, Carina mixed a tea which she presented to Tris, who looked as if he were in pain. He accepted the tea gratefully.

Night had fallen by the time Carina had recounted their escape from the slavers, and the detail she provided about Tris's role in obtaining their freedom confirmed that the young mage had considerably more power than he let on. She explained how circumstances had changed their course, directing them all to the Library at Westmarch instead of Dhasson. Carina even managed to tell of Cam's disappearance with a fair amount of control, although Kiara was unashamed of the tears it brought to her own eyes. Of the others' stories, Carina offered little. While she talked, Tris and Carroway made rush torches and arrows to replace the ones they had used and Vahanian refilled the bucket with pitch, ready for another encounter.